


Good Boy

by rhysiethecompanyman



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: Creampie, Implied/Referenced Torture, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Trans Male Character, Unhealthy Relationships, Vaginal Sex, randy is my mc for btd hes a trans guy, whats up im back and i brought smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 13:06:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17898680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhysiethecompanyman/pseuds/rhysiethecompanyman
Summary: It was a tapestry of pain and debauchery Strade left upon his skin, one that Randy perhaps might have felt ashamed of in the past, but it was not so anymore. He reveled in it, Strade’s sadism and lust bleeding together, indistinguishable from one another in his broken mind by now. And he craved more. Always more, more, more.Truly, Randy was a different animal than he was before.





	Good Boy

**Author's Note:**

> lowkey randy is my self insert and in short im really gross please dont @ me
> 
> anyway please enjoy my being nasty and self indulgent

This wasn’t love.

Randy knew that much.

Nothing about this- about them -could be called love. Especially not now. 

“Ah!” He cried out as the man above him bit down harshly onto his shoulder, bringing him back down to Earth. Randy’s fingernails dug into his back in turn, dragging downward roughly.

“Hah... Liebling, you’ve been letting your nails grow out,” Strade husked into his ear, sounding pleased. The teeth had withdrawn from Randy’s shoulder; he didn’t need to look to know that he was bleeding.

He didn’t think there was a single inch left of him that Strade hadn’t left his mark on by now. That favored knife of his being raked across Randy’s thighs, leaving criss-crossed patterns in their wake, the still somewhat fresh bruise around his eye from Strade wondering if he might look better in a color other than red, dark hickeys littered against his neck and down his shoulders that told anyone who might’ve seen him who Randy belonged to.

It was a tapestry of pain and debauchery Strade left upon his skin, one that Randy perhaps might have felt ashamed of in the past, but it was not so anymore. He reveled in it, Strade’s sadism and lust bleeding together, indistinguishable from one another in his broken mind by now. And he craved more. Always more, more,  _more_.

Truly, Randy was a different animal than he was before.

Strade bit him again, higher up this time, teeth sinking into the junction between his neck and shoulder, taking advantage of one of few times that collar should come off, (he knew Randy wouldn’t try to run; he never did), and Randy couldn’t do much more than let out a high pitched sob. He didn’t want to, really, not with the way Strade responded to it, growling and grinding his hips down roughly against him, pinning him against the sheets. He released Randy’s neck again, tongue dragging over his skin, catching the blood that surely must’ve been pooling.

“Mmm... Such a lovely voice,” Strade said, rocking downward against Randy once again. He could feelhow hard Strade was, letting out a whimper. “You make it so hard to hold back, Schatz.” He tried to roll his hips up against Strade, wanting more, _needing_ it, and knowing just how well Strade could provide. It wouldn’t take much, Randy knew that, in fact it was incredibly easy to get Strade to fuck him. Almost annoyingly so, to be honest. Strade was always so goddamn horny, he could get pretty ridiculous.

Strade pushed himself upward, hands on either side of Randy’s head, all contact broken save for the thigh slotted between his legs. Strade is still hard against him and Randy is certain he’s soaked through his thin shorts by now. They stared at one another for a few moments, breathing heavy, Strade’s ever-present smirk and downright hungry eyes making Randy struggle not to squirm beneath him.

Finally, he spoke.

“Then don’t,” Randy said, voice high; breathy.

That seemed to finally push Strade over the edge.

Randy found himself being grabbed and shoved onto his side before he could register what was happening, a brief thrum of pleasure running through his body in response to being manhandled so roughly, eventually settling into the ache between his thighs. Strade was strong, there was certainly no denying that, he had no issue moving Randy about with all the ease of repositioning a pillow, and he adored it every time. 

Randy heard the clinking of a belt and the familiar sound of a zipper coming undone before he felt Strade’s chest pressed up against his back, one arm wrapping itself underneath him. Randy was pulled back until they were flush, Randy’s diminutive frame making it easy for Strade to fit them together, hips slotted neatly, Strade’s chin on his shoulder. Randy smelled sweat and motor oil, felt Strade’s heavy breaths against his shoulder as the opposite hand made to grab the hem of the shorts Strade always seemed to have him wear. (Of course, with how easily they slid off, Randy started to understand why).

“Aah, Liebling… do you even know what you do to me?” Strade rumbled, replacing his hand on Randy’s hip, grinding his still boxer-clad erection forward against Randy’s now bare thighs, making him whine. He felt himself throb. _Fuck_ , he wanted that inside him. “Ha, well… You feel it, don’t you?” He chuckled under his breath and Randy whined again, louder this time.

Strade tsk-ed at him, squeezing his hip hard enough to hurt, “So needy, pet. I suppose I do spoil you, don’t I?” There were teeth on his shoulder again, barely a nip. It almost seemed playful. “I think you’ll have to earn it, this time.”

Not the first time Randy had heard that one. “Please,” he begged, hoping that’s what Strade wanted to hear. “Please, please, _please_ , I’ll be good, I promise,” he tried to rut his ass back against him, hoping to entice, but the other man’s grasp on his hip remained firm, Randy couldn’t budge. Strade was laughing softly against his shoulder, clearly amused by the effort.

“Don’t move,” Strade said, finally releasing him. His hand slid off of Randy’s hip, toward the waistband of his boxers. A few seconds passed before Randy felt Strade’s cock rub up against his backside. “Or you won’t get anything. Do you understand?”

Randy swallowed thickly and nodded.

“Good, now press your thighs together.”

Doing as he was told, Randy let out a sharp gasp, followed by a low whimper, fingers digging into the sheets beneath him. Strade had pressed his cock into the tight space between his thighs, dragging over where he’s hot and needy and practically drooling. Strade slowly began to rock his hips forward and back, shuddering and panting hotly. The slide was easy, and Randy felt himself throb when he realized that the only lube Strade had needed had come from him.

“Ah… You’re so wet for me, Schatz,” his free hand slid down Randy’s front. “Did a little dry humping really get you so excited?” He felt fingers against his clit and couldn’t hold back the shout he gave in return, entire body trembling with the effort it took to keep himself in place. Strade was still moving behind him, picking up the pace, the slap of skin against skin seeming to echo throughout the room. He swore he felt Strade line himself up once as he went. Just once, briefly pressing the head of his cock right where Randy desperately needed it before pulling away again, resuming his quick pace.

Randy wanted to move so badly, doing nothing but lying here and taking what he was given was driving him out of his mind. He wanted to rut himself back against Strade, he wanted to shove him over and straddle those hips, ride him hard into the mattress, he wanted to fuck himself on Strade’s cock and cum again and again until his legs were weak and he could barely moved, helpless as Strade pushed him down. He wanted Strade to shove his face into the sheets while he rammed him from behind over and over until he finally filled him to the brim with cock and cum.

But he couldn’t.

He shouldn’t.

He wanted to listen.

He wanted to be good.

“You’re doing so well,” Strade mumbled into his ear, fingers still rubbing his clit slowly, sharply contrasting the fast, rough movements of his hips. “So good for me, Liebling, just a little bit more, then I’ll give you what you want.”

Randy didn’t know if Strade was telling the truth or not, and frankly he didn’t really care. He felt a pressure building in his hips, hot pleasure coiling in his stomach, threatening to spill over between Strade’s cock rubbing up against his sensitive cunt and the fingers at his clit.

God, he didn’t know how much more of this he could take.

“Ngh… g’na... C-… Ahn, _fuck_ , Strade-!”

“What was that?”

“M’gonna cum…” Randy murmured. “Gonna cum, gonna cum… Ple- _ease!_ Let me cum, pleasepleaseplease-“ His words were slurred and uneven, but he hardly cared, not with the way Strade’s fingers were starting to pick up speed.

“Ah, already? I suppose it can’t be helped, you’ve always been so very sensitive… Go on then, pet,” Strade said, hooking his chin over Randy’s shoulder. “Cum for me.”

That was all it took.

A high keen tore it’s way out of Randy’s throat, one hand clawing at the linens beneath him and the other clinging to Strade’s arm like a lifeline. He was shaking almost violently as orgasm wracked his body, sobbing and whimpering as Strade worked him through it with rhythmic fingers. Even as the aftershocks slowly faded, however, Strade’s hand never slowed. In fact he was speeding up again. Randy could only whimper in response to the assault, oversensitive and aching.

“One more time,” Strade rumbled into his ear. “For me. Be a good boy for me.”

It wasn’t long before Randy came again, much more subdued than the first, nothing but a breathless sob on his lips.

But of course, Randy didn’t relax. He knew better than that.

Strade wasn’t finished with him yet.

He was breathing hotly against Randy’s back, fingers finally moving away from his clit. He was still hard, Randy could feel him pulse between his thighs. When Strade’s hand took hold of his knee, leg lifting upward, he moved more on instinct than anything else, his own hand reaching downward to line Strade’s cock up with himself.

He pressed in slowly, painfully slowly. Randy knew that sadistic side wanted him to feel every inch sinking into him, and it was working. He squirmed and whimpered, not sure whether he was trying to get away or get closer, but Strade held him firm, pushing in steadily, not stopping until he was as deep as he could possibly be. He held still after that, hips flush together, not a sound in the room other than their heavy breathing.

“Haah, mm…” Strade sighed pleasantly. “…Perfect fit."

Randy didn’t get the chance to decide whether he wanted to hit Strade for that or simply hide his face out of embarrassment, because no sooner had he made his remark, Strade was moving, pulling out agonizingly slow, almost completely, before snapping his hips forward and burying himself to the hilt once again, earning a loud moan from Randy. Strade continued on, just like that, movements steady and precise, (reminiscent of how he could be with his blade, should he want to). His hips pistoned in and out of Randy like a machine, hitting that spot of his with pinpoint accuracy; leaving a staccato of high-pitched, sharp ‘ah!’s behind with every thrust.

“Good boy… Such a good boy, so warm, so wet…” Strade’s voice had dropped down to almost a growl, thrusts starting to pick up speed the more he spoke. “Just for me- _All_ for me… Liebling, I could tear you apart… And you’d let me, wouldn’t you?” He bit down onto Randy’s shoulder, hard, the coppery taste of blood on his tongue when he let him go again, continuing to pant and rumble into his ear. His movements grew erratic; animalistic, slamming into Randy’s abused cunt hard enough that he knew his hips were going to bruise. Randy could only sob at the treatment. He was so sore, having two orgasms forced out of him and knowing Strade was most certainly going for a third.

He ached, he needed less- needed more. It hurt so bad; it felt so _good_. He never wanted Strade to stop, but he didn’t how much more he could handle.

This had to be the sweetest kind of torture. 

Strade fucked him like he was made for it, just like he did every time, panting into his ear as he moved faster and faster until finally, blissfully, everything hit it’s peak. Strade thrust himself in as deep as he could, roughly hitting that spot one more time. With a wail, Randy’s inner walls pulsed around Strade, nails digging into the arm he still held in a viselike grasp. A low broken groan drifted into Randy’s ear, warmth flooding his insides as he panted. “Such a good boy for me…”

Randy wasn’t sure how long they stayed together like that, but Strade pulled out of him eventually, a gush of his own cum and Strade’s leaking onto his thighs. Strade whistled at the sight, still holding Randy’s leg. “Such a pretty picture, Schatzi, I should sell photos.”

It took whatever last bit of strength Randy had in him to yank his leg out of Strade’s grasp, dropping it back onto the bed with nothing more than a grumble to express his distaste. Strade laughed at him. “Alright, alright, you’re tired. Rest up, pet. You’ll need your strength for tomorrow, ja?” He settled down onto the mattress, arms looping around Randy; holding him against his chest.

This wasn’t love.

Randy knew that much.

But when they were like this, just them, still basking in the warmth of an afterglow, Randy liked to pretend that it could be.


End file.
